


abomination

by curiositykilled



Series: tumblr prompts [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Gen, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 14:48:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12509840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiositykilled/pseuds/curiositykilled
Summary: Ulaz is well aware of the differences between humans and Galra. It is only natural for the great many species of the universe to specialize and evolve in ways that meet their individual environments’ needs. Although he is a warrior, Ulaz is a scientist first and foremost, and he prides himself on his professionalism and objectivity. After all, the diversity of cultures and evolution is a cause for celebration for those of the scientific and inquisitive persuasion.But this – this is an abomination.





	abomination

                  Ulaz is well aware of the differences between humans and Galra. It is only natural for the great many species of the universe to specialize and evolve in ways that meet their individual environments’ needs. Although he is a warrior, Ulaz is a scientist first and foremost, and he prides himself on his professionalism and objectivity. After all, the diversity of cultures and evolution is a cause for celebration for those of the scientific and inquisitive persuasion.

                  But this – this is an abomination.

                  He stares at his hands – or, rather, the bizarre pockets ensnaring them.

                  “What.”

                  Pidge beams up at him, though he can only tell this because of the way her eyes crinkle gleefully. The bottom half of her face is covered by a think scarf that muffles her voice, and her forehead is covered by a hat that reaches down to her eyebrows. The other paladins are similarly dressed, though Keith has refused the heavy scarf Pidge wears.

                  And each of them wear these…things on their hands.

                  “They’re mittens,” Pidge says. “They’ll keep your hands warm.”

                  Ulaz blinks at her and then stares back down at the atrocities trapping his fingers. He can understand the concept. Already, his fingers are uncomfortably overheated. Nonetheless, the execution seems poorly thought-out.

                  “There are no gloves on Earth?” he asks.

                  It’s the only logical explanation, though it does beg the question where three out of the five paladins acquired their own gloves, fingerless though they are.

                  “Oh, of course there are,” Pidge says, turning away. It makes her voice harder to understand, and Ulaz leans forward to catch what she says next. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

                  She tromps forward in exaggerated steps that turn into clumsy bounds as she heads towards the other paladins. The ice through which they crunch is softer than Ulaz has experienced, but the paladins say it is far too brittle to be ‘snow’ – another form of ice, apparently, common on Earth.

                  Ulaz pauses to consider that, perhaps, these ‘mittens’ have properties specific to this snow that might explain them.

                  He considers it for a long moment.

                  He gives up summarily and does the only thing reasonable in this situation: gets the offending ‘mittens’ off. Wiggling his fingers within them produces no results. He rubs them against each other but succeeds only in increasing the heat within them.

                  His ears flatten against his head, a pathetic mewl escaping him. Were anyone around to hear, he would be mortified. As it is, the paladins are currently bombarding each other with round white balls of the ice. They yelp and shriek but follow those immediately with laughter. Ulaz manages only a brief look of absolute bafflement before he returns to his mission.

                  Raising his hands to eye-level, he squints hard at the mittens, scouring his brain for a solution. Slowly, he begins to shake his hands. The mittens wiggle. He speeds up the shaking.

                  He is so thoroughly engrossed in his quest that it takes some time for him to realize he has an audience. He freezes, hands stuck just in front of his face.

                  Pidge’s scarf has slipped down to reveal her gaping openly at him. Keith is frowning, arms crossed and bafflement clear over his face. Lance is folded in half, supported only by Hunk’s firm arm as he shakes with laughter. Hunk is still upright, but his shoulders quiver with laughter. Shiro is smiling – though, from the way his lips are pressed together, it’s clear he’s trying not to.

                  “Need some help there?” he asks.

                  With that, the remaining vestiges of the paladins’ dignity crumbles. Lance goes to his knees, taking Hunk halfway down with him, and Keith sniggers behind his hand. Shiro’s laugh is bright and loud, and Pidge wraps an arm around her stomach as she laughs.

                  Ulaz stares at them in dismay, his hands still caught. Shiro composes himself first, though his grin is still bright and teasing.

                  “Who knew,” he said, “all we needed to take down Zarkon was a pair of mittens.”

 

 


End file.
